


A Road Roughly Traveled

by WildwingSuz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He said, she said; an excuse for smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Road Roughly Traveled

**Author's Note:**

> This began as two separate stories on a similar subject that I combined to make one very long smut piece; it was an interesting exercise to weave the two together. 
> 
> Spoilers: The End, Fight the Future, Field Trip, Millennium, Hungry, The Rain King, all things.

A Road Roughly Traveled  
Rated NC-17  
By Suzanne L. Feld

 

When Mulder didn’t touch me in return in the ashes of the X-Files office I was sure that “us” was not to be. I had stood there and held his tensely thrumming body, both of us unmoving except for shallow breaths in the heavy, wet air. He’d kept his arms at his sides, making no attempt whatsoever to hold me in return. There had been no comfort to be had for us but at least he could have made the effort as I did. Knowing that he couldn’t spare so much as a thought for me at that time made me lock up my heart even tighter and more securely than ever in its dark little barricaded room. 

Then he’d kicked the door down with that almost-kiss in the hallway, and left it hanging open without going through it when everything went back to normal—or what passed for normal with us. 

Frustration, Mulder is thy name.

Until last night, that is. Last night he’d stormed the walls and brought the drawbridge down and rendered all my defenses null and void with one small kiss. That was all it took, as I’d been afraid it would. We’d had a moment, a split-second where we’d looked each other in the eye, both wondering if perhaps this was such a good idea… but then sanity passed. Our hearts and our bodies, not our minds, had reigned after that.

He had stopped by after work as he so often did, with a case file and Chinese food; I’d always thought the accompanying meal was an apology for bringing work to my home. But I didn’t mind, or at least not much. Sometimes I knew it always was an excuse to see me and sometimes a real investigation, in which case I was always interested to see what he’d brought. Even when it had been something outright stupid, like the deathwatch beetle under the stairs that turned out to be a lost watch, it was worth hearing about.

When he’d stopped by I had just opened a bottle of wine, and so instead of his usual Michelob we had shared the bottle as we ate and looked over the file. We’d been sitting on the floor both on the same side of my coffee table, knees and shoulders occasionally brushing as we’d taken a bite or shifted to pull the file closer. I had made just a small fire as it wasn’t that cold outside; the little blaze was more for ambience than warmth.

Then, as we were cleaning up—and I’m still not quite sure how it happened—one of the wineglasses got knocked over and spilled on the file. I had tried to jump up to get paper towels but had ended up tangled up with Mulder, our arms and legs getting in each other’s way. Laughing despite the mess, I had put a hand on his shoulder to halt his movements and when I looked up, his intense, serious face was barely an inch from mine. We’d gazed at each other for a beat, then his face had come at me and his lips had been pressing against mine. Then, before I really knew what was happening, we were even more tangled up, lying on my living room floor between the table and couch, kissing the daylights out of each other. We had been face-to-face, his arms around my waist while mine were around his shoulders, my leg thrown over his hip and one of his legs between mine. 

(Later I found that the contents of the file had soaked up the wine and adhered to my coffee table as the paper dried, effectively ruining it. But that was neither here nor there at the time; I never spared file nor table a thought.)

I’d had a fleeting thought that perhaps this wasn’t the right time, but then Mulder had very gently, rather tentatively slid his hand up to cup one of my breasts with slightly shaking fingers and the thought flew right out of my head. Timing or not, this was so right—and I was not going to stop.

We’d managed to work our way around the table as we shed our clothes, ending up on the thick, furry white rug in front of the fireplace. Ever since I’d gotten this apartment almost seven years ago I’d wanted to make love in front of a roaring fire, had in fact bought this heavy rug with that in mind. To have my fantasy come true with Mulder was almost more than I could take.

When I’d slid his pants and underwear off I was entranced by his cock, which was absolutely perfect to my eyes. Perhaps because it was attached to Mulder, but regardless it was just the size and girth I liked; not too big, not too small, just right, and I told him so. He’d seemed surprised that I’d paused to pay attention to it, but I’d loved the feel of the silky skin stretched taut over the hard muscle beneath, veins throbbing with his arousal both under my hands and in my mouth. He had stopped me long before I was ready for him to, and I’d mentally made plans to spend more quality one-on-one time with it not far in the future.

I had been so aroused from touching him that I didn’t need much foreplay and was soon urging him up over me, wanting that rigid, just-right cock inside me as soon and for as long as we could manage. “God, Scully, I don’t know how long I can last, this is so… intense,” he’d breathed as he’d gotten on his knees on the rug between my spread legs, his long, lean, muscular body poised above me. “I wanted to get you off first.”

“It won’t take much,” I’d assured him, urging him on with my heels pressing against his tight ass. Then he’d leaned forward over me, holding himself up on his arms, and began to slide into me with unerring accuracy. It had been so long for me that despite my extreme arousal it was slow going, and he had begun to back out and push in a bit more every time, rocking into me firmly but gently. My heart had been pounding with a mixture of arousal and excitement, and I’d known that if I loosed my grip on him my hands were shaking too. 

“Are… are you okay with this, do you need me to slow down?” he’d asked almost breathlessly, gazing down at me with intense hazel eyes, his skin golden in the dying firelight. 

“God, no, keep going,” I had breathed, reaching down to hold him just above the hips and urge him on. “Just keep being patient like you’re doing. It’s been a long time for me.”

“Me too,” he’d smiled down at me as he’d pressed forward, then backed out gently before sliding in partway again, just a little bit further. Exquisite. “But it is like riding a bike; you don’t forget.”

“No, you don’t,” I had smiled back at him, then without warning he’d suddenly slid deep into me. I’d thrown my head back as much as I could on the hard floor and let out a long, breathy moan, my hands clenching on his sides and legs tightening around his lean hips. “Jesus!”

“Fuck, yeah,” he’d said in a deep, rasping voice I’d never heard from him before, holding still inside me. I’d made myself open my eyes and look up at him, seeing him gazing down at me with such a look of adoration on his face that it almost embarrassed me… except that I had been gazing back at him with the same feeling. His lean, muscular body had hovered over me, a strong sculpture in firelit golden skin and dark, tousled hair. “God, Scully, I, Jesus, we’re… shit, I don’t have words.”

“Neither do I,” I’d said, reaching up to run my fingers through his mahogany hair and draw him down on me with a smile. “And when we are speechless, you know it’s special.”

He had laughed as he’d come down to kiss me and then lay atop my body, holding himself up off my chest on his elbows. When he’d begun to move, sliding out and pumping back in slow but strong, I’d thought I had died and gone to Heaven. I had never in my life felt anything so good as the feel of his strong, firmly muscled body moving on mine as well as his cock thrusting in and out of me; being a small woman I’ve had and been concerned about more than one large penis, and I used to be a bit nervous at first with a new lover. But there had been none of that with Mulder; he’d known how to use that beautiful cock of his and was both careful and powerful. He had been clearly paying attention to my responses and didn’t shove himself thoughtlessly into me, instead pumping firmly but with long, even strokes. 

After just a few thrusts he had lifted his face from mine and rasped, “Is this good, Scully? Can you finish like this?”

God, how I loved a man who knew enough to ask before, not after! 

“Yeah, I’m getting close,” I had breathed, feeling my arousal rise in tandem to his strokes. I was, I knew, one of those rare lucky women with a large enough clitoris to be adequately rubbed to climax in most positions. With the right partner, that was, and God knew I was certainly with him at the moment.  


“I am too, sorry to say… but it’s been so long and God, you are so hot and sexy… I’m not going to last much longer,” he had said, cupping my face in his hands. “I want to get you off so badly, Scully.” 

“Let yourself go, Mulder; I’ll come with you,” I’d breathed, then when he’d grinned I’d smiled back in reply, realizing my unintentional double entendre. God, how I’d loved the smiling and laughing as we made love! 

He had slid his hands beneath my shoulders, letting much of his body rest on me, and still staring down at me intently he’d begun to pump fast and long, pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting hard back into me. “Oh, God, Mulder, yeah!” I had cried, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and briefly wishing I could reach his ass, but all thought was swept away when just moments later I climaxed, pushing my hips strongly back at him. Then I had felt him really slam into me and hold there for a moment, crying out huskily into my ear, before grinding against me as my inner muscles had clenched around him one final time.

Our first time hadn’t lasted very long but it was the best lovemaking of my life up to that point. Little did I know it would get better… before everything got worse.

Now, just hours afterwards, I feel like my chest has been torn open by one of those slimy aliens from the movies and left to cool in the morning air. His complete and utter disregard for what happened last night has me baffled, angry, and hurt. Two more times we went at it, then after we got up and took turns showering and dressed he acted like nothing happened… so I acted like nothing happened. We’re back to just being partners despite an evening of passion that would make Cupid swoon (okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little… but not by much). 

I’m too much the consummate professional to show what I’m feeling while on the job, though. But God help him if he comes to me expecting sex, if he thinks we’ll ever be anything but partners again. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… well, there was more than twice last night but I am really trying hard not to think about that.

* * *

How in the hell can she be so calm, cool, collected, like nothing happened? Did it mean that little to her?!

I never thought I would be hurt by something like this, but I was wrong.

She sat there in the office and discussed the Schiff case with me like last night we weren’t doing things to each other that were probably illegal prior to 1900… and some of which may still not be in some states. Jesus, once we got going there was nothing she wouldn’t do, nothing that seemed to bother her or turn her off. Of course it’s not like we did anything really freaky—despite my jokes, I am not into bondage, anal, or golden showers—but it certainly surpassed any other first-time sexual experience I’ve ever had.

The reason why is obvious, at least to me. We’ve been closer than most married couples these past six years, and while the sex part was new, she was not. The smell and feel and look of her was familiar; even the first time I tasted her juices didn’t seem novel, although it was. 

I’m beginning to wonder if the sex really was as good for her as it seemed, but I can’t believe she was faking it. Why would she? And her body’s reactions were real, that much I’m sure of. I saw the physical signs, I felt her vaginal walls contract around my fingers and my cock the multiple times she came so I’m as sure as I can be that she had an orgasm… hell, she had at least five that I know of, maybe more. God knows I tried to get her to have as many as she could handle.

Was it the first round, when I totally humiliated myself by going off like a teenager shortly after I got inside her, barely giving her time to finish? But the next two times, well, I think I redeemed myself there. That last time I lasted nearly half an hour just thrusting into her while we sat up, definitely a world record in the Mulder camp. I couldn’t believe that I kept getting hard but every time I looked at her and thought that now I had the right to touch her, I wanted her again.

She seemed to want me just as much; there’s no way I’ve ever heard of to fake how wet and swollen she was every time I touched her down there. Besides, why pretend? Why not just enjoy it? Scully’s too much of a straight shooter for me to believe that she didn’t show me everything she experienced. God knows I did, and then some.

The second time I made her come with my mouth and my hands before I ever entered her, and when I did I had her ass on a couch pillow so I could be up on my knees and finger her clit as I fucked her with long, slow, deep strokes until she came twice more before I let myself go. Getting to spend what seemed like forever but was nowhere near long enough making love to her in front of the fireplace on that thick rug, even after the fire went out, was truly a dream come true, and I now wished I’d told her that. At this point I didn’t know how.

Of course the fact that I made her speechless with the Schiff case does my heart some good. Still, not quite enough, knowing that what we experienced together last night apparently meant nothing to her. Well, if she can play it cool, so can I.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Agent Scully, we just can’t put you in the same room—that is a serious breach of protocol.”

“I understand, but please consider what we’ve just gone through. We’d rather not be separated right now. Besides, we’re only going to be here for a few more hours under observation, right?”  
My pleading seems to have an effect on the nurse. She glances at Mulder, who wordlessly gives her the big sad puppy-dog eyes and that seems to do the trick.

“Oh, all right, I’ll see what I can do. But just because you’re partners injured in the line of duty.”

After she leaves, I turn on my side toward said partner. We’re still in the holding area, surrounded by white curtains while the emergency room bustle outside seems miles away. “Mulder… what did you dream while we were underground?” It hurt my face to move that way, mostly my cheeks and forehead, but I couldn’t not talk to him.

“I dreamt that I found the Schiffs, kidnapped a Gray and took it back to DC and showed it to you, and then we woke up underground, escaped, and were rescued. That turned out to be false, and then I thought I was in Skinner’s office giving a report when I realized that it was still all fake and shot him. And now here we are.”

I sighed with relief. I was afraid he might have relived our night together, which I was making a real effort to forget… as if I could. But at least I could try.

Of course it bothered me as well that he hadn’t thought about our night together, but I knew that was irrational enough that I was able to ignore it. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask me what I’d experienced, but Mr. Curiosity Personified couldn’t do anything else and I had to answer honestly.

“I had the same final dream as you, in Skinner’s office. But before that I believed that I had found your skeleton on the mountain and then attended your wake in your apartment. But then all of a sudden it all disappeared and you were knocking on the door… that popped me out of it.”

“So my secret desire was to have you admit I was right, and yours was to see me dead,” he said thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling.

I began to protest, but what could I say? I often got really angry with him, but I certainly couldn’t believe I wanted him dead even subconsciously. Just then I was saved as two orderlies came to take us to our room and I laid back on the gurney, thinking it over. While doing so and being wheeled down the hallway, I fell asleep and the conversation never got finished.

At least we got to share a hospital room and keep each other company for the six hours we were kept there, even if nothing more happened. Sometimes it is the little things in life.

* * *

I never did remember much of the two months when I went crazy in reaction to the rubbings of the alien artifact. Other than, of course, the alternative life with Diana that they offered me. Which, even as I was experiencing it, I knew was wrong in some corner of my mind that I’ve never forgotten, and never will.

When Scully didn’t come into my apartment and then left after bringing me the news of Diana’s death I realized how badly we were damaged in the wake of everything that had happened over the last six months or so. Since when was Scully afraid to be alone with me? 

I closed the door and went to sit on the couch, taking off both the cap and tie and tossing them on my desk. After everything I’d been through I wasn’t quite sure if I really was doing what I thought I was doing… but I was pretty damn sure I’d managed to hear some of Scully’s thoughts while we were holding each other in the doorway and she kissed my forehead. There was only one way to find out for sure but I wasn’t sure if I should ask her.

She’d been thinking how much she loved me and how much it was breaking her heart to keep herself away… because she thought that was how I wanted it. Also that she didn’t dare come in because of how much it hurt thinking that I didn’t want her sexually.

But was it the truth? Or was it what I hoped, wanted to hear? Could I bring myself to ask her?

Jesus, I was so confused. On top of everything that had happened in the last couple months I now had to wonder if I had screwed up by ignoring our night together.

Fuck it.

I picked up my phone and hit the speed dial for her cell. 

“Scully.”

“This is going to sound crazy—“ I ignored her huff—“but when we were hugging in my doorway a little while ago, were you thinking that you didn’t dare come into my apartment because you thought I didn’t want you in bed again?”

I heard the sound of tires screaming and Scully’s gasp then another voice yelling in the background; the words were indecipherable, but the tone of voice wasn’t. “Jesus, Mulder, don’t say things like that when I’m driving!” she said almost breathlessly. “I just missed hitting a city bus by about a quarter of an inch.”

“Whoa, sorry,” I said, alarmed. “Want to call me back when you get home?”

“Uh, no, I’m fine now, you just really startled me,” she said. 

We were both quiet for a time; I was afraid to ask again and clearly she was afraid to answer. She must have had her car window open because I could hear traffic noises, though no more near-accident sounds. I wished I could read her mind and end this endless silence, but nothing was coming.

“Yes,” she said softly, and I heard the ding-ding-ding that signaled a car door being open while the keys were in the ignition. 

“Yes, that’s what you were thinking?” I said equally softly in return as the dinging stopped and I heard the car door close.

She evaded the question, which told me the answer. “You’re still reading minds, aren’t you?”

“Only when I touched you,” I made a point of telling her. “I’m not getting anything at all right now and I really wish I were so I would know what to say next.”

She chuckled, then sobered. “I’m really not comfortable talking about this over the phone.”

“Then why don’t you come back? Or I’ll come—“

“You’re not going anywhere, Mulder. And I honestly think we should save this discussion until you’re a hundred percent.”

I gnashed my teeth in frustration. “I’m fine, Scully, really, I mean it. You’re welcome to check my wound if you don’t believe me.”

She hesitated, and I swear I could hear her shaking her head. “Later, Mulder. Now I need to go in the grocery store so I’m going to let you go and I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

I took a deep breath and said, very deliberately, “I love you, Scully.”

Another intake of breath but instead of hanging up on me or another “Oh brother,” I got a soft but clear, “I love you, too, Mulder” before the line went dead.

* * *

I stayed away from Mulder as much as I could over the next week or so despite the fact that I was his doctor; I knew he’d let me know if there were any problems but he seemed to be healing fine despite the butchery they’d practiced on him. 

When he was certified to go back to work our first case took us to California, which meant a four-hour plane ride together. To my relief, as soon as we were at altitude he reclined his seat and apparently went to sleep. I tried to immerse myself in a copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles but was unable to stop thinking about what we were so deliberately not talking about.

Though I’m not the one with the eidetic memory I had not forgotten a single moment of that life-altering night several months ago. Nor would I if I kept reliving it constantly the way I was, I thought with some humor despite the arousal that stole through my body as I let my eyes fall closed and indulged myself. 

That third time had been the icing on the cake. We’d both been dozing when I’d rolled over on my side towards the dying warmth of the dormant fireplace and he’d curled around me, and within moments I’d felt him growing hard against my bottom. “What do you say, Scully,” he’d rasped into my ear, “I hear the third time’s a charm.”

By then I’d had to go to the bathroom and held him off long enough to do so. When I’d returned, striding naked across the living room, I had found him sitting up with his back against one of the easy chairs, his erection prominent and ready for me. He’d put his arms out invitingly and had said with a lascivious, overdone eyebrow wiggle, “Have a seat in my lap, little girl; I have something for you.”

God, I loved how he made me laugh! Our coupling was intense and serious and yet happy, sweet, and tender. 

Grinning, I had straddled him and lowered myself onto his cock with my hands on his shoulders, bending my knees as I went down and then wrapping my legs around his hips when I was fully impaled on him. We were face to face, chest to chest, belly to belly. 

He’d had his hands on my waist as I’d slid my arms around his shoulders, and as we began to rock against each other I’d leaned forward and kissed him lightly, teasingly, barely brushing our lips together. I had flicked my tongue out and licked his lips, moving it back inside my mouth when he went to reciprocate so that his followed, then our actions were reversed until I managed to catch his tongue out and we dueled with the tips of them between our lips.

All the while we had been rocking together, his perfect cock sliding deeply in and out of me, my breasts rubbing against his strong pectoral muscles, our bellies slapping wetly together when we’d finally began moving faster, and deepening the kiss. It seemed to go on forever, definitely the longest lovemaking session I’d ever experienced, and it was exquisite. We’d come one after another, and I’d felt my inner walls gripping him in waves as he cried out my name and slammed me down on him. This time we’d both been done and we knew it, though we’d stayed sitting together long after he’d gone soft and slipped out of me, just holding each other and basking in the afterglow.

As soon as they announced that we were descending into LAX, Mulder sat up and turned to me, appearing wide awake and not the least bit groggy. “Listen… we still have some unfinished business, and I hate to have it hanging over our heads,” he said, then reached over and took my right hand off the book and held it lightly, meeting my eyes as they raised to his. “Why don’t we leave it tabled until we get back to D.C., then let me take you out for dinner and we can talk in a neutral place?”

“Can you hear my thoughts?” I asked quietly, letting my hand rest in his.

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes going far away. Then he shook his dark head and looked at me again. “Nope, nothing. Unless of course you’re thinking that we need to take in a Lakers game while we’re out here.”

I couldn’t help but grin and squeeze his hand. “That one’s not me. OK, let’s talk when we get back.”

That turned out to be wishful thinking. After the case was solved I took an extra day and went to visit Bill and Tara and my nephew while Mulder flew back alone. Once my mother found out that I was in California I let her talk me into staying, and she met me at Bill’s the next day. Christmas was almost upon us and I had no problem getting Skinner to let me start the holiday vacation early, though Mulder sounded less than thrilled when I called and told him I was staying.

Within twenty-four hours I was having problems with memories of Emily and missing Mulder and was unable to stop thinking about our lovemaking and wished I hadn’t agreed to stay, but it was too late now. I did, however, manage to plead having to get back to work and flew back to D.C. on the 29th although I wasn’t able to get hold of Mulder. If he was angry at me then that was too bad; he knew how important my family was.

At home I found a message on my answering machine letting me know that we had a new case and to meet him at a graveyard in Maryland the next day. Apparently he’d gotten my messages and knew I was coming home today, but I didn’t see or hear from him otherwise though I did leave a message both on his home machine and cell voicemail letting him know that I was back and would see him the next day.

So much for our dinner and talk, I thought dispiritedly. 

* * *

Though I knew that wasn’t the case, I felt like Scully had abandoned me and blown off my request to talk by staying in California over the holidays. In return I made a point of not answering her calls or messages, and left her a message to meet me on a case when I knew she was still on the plane. 

But when I looked up and saw her gazing down into the grave at me, all my irritation and resentment fled. I hadn’t seen her in well over a week and I was freshly amazed at how gorgeous she was; sometimes I forgot, seeing her day in and day out. There was no way I could continue to hold a grudge once I saw her; in fact it was all I could do not to grab her and kiss her breathless. I was bombarded with images from our one night together every time I saw her, even more so now after being apart for almost a week.

The one thing I could not get out of my head about our impetuous lovemaking was how she’d handled my cock. Most women seemed to take it as something that was a matter of course which had to be dealt with on the way to their pleasure, but she’d stopped us after getting undressed to get up close and personal with it. “God, Mulder, you are perfect,” she had said, tracing a gentle but firm finger from just beneath the glans down to the root along the thick vein. “Big, but not oversized; thick, but not too wide around—just right, just what I like,” she’d breathed. “You’re going to fit in me perfectly.” She’d run her hand back up the underside cupped around the shaft and, when she had gotten to the head, curled her hand around it just below and lowered her mouth to suck me in.

The burst of wet raw heat had almost been my undoing and I’d had to put a hand on her arm, gasping out, “Much as I, ah, hate to stop you, I’m, uh…”

She’d gotten it and lifted her head to smile up at me, letting go and scooting up to lay next to me. Later, when I’d been sheathed in her tight, delicious warmth and gazing down at her in wonder she’d said, “See, a perfect fit.” We’d both laughed and then got down to some serious fucking. God, she was incredible; she had responded to my every touch and look instantly and hadn’t hesitated to let me know what she needed or wanted. 

We didn’t have our discussion that day or the next but when I kissed her at midnight and she didn’t slap me, I knew that we had to discuss what had happened, and soon. Preferably before we ended up in bed again, which was where we were heading. I was positive that if we did the naked pretzel again without talking we’d make an even bigger mess of things.

It was in the car on the way home that it hit me. Perhaps what Scully wanted—even if she didn’t know it—was to be treated like any other desirable woman, to be wined and dined and romanced instead of being taken for granted. I did an awful lot of that in our day-to-day life and maybe showing her how special she was to me would get me back in her bed. It was certainly worth a try.

Over the next few months, outside of work, I began to treat Scully like a woman I was dating and it wasn’t long before I noted the difference in our relationship. When I took her out to dinner I held doors and her coat, I stood when she got up from the table, I made sure she had my full and undivided attention when she spoke, I didn’t interrupt her. I held her hand at the movies or while we were walking, and I gave her more of those undemanding close-mouthed kisses when I dropped her at her apartment, but never pushed it any further.

She blossomed, is the best way to put it. At work nothing seemed to change although I did notice that she seemed to smile more, but in our private lives there was a marked difference. We used to go our separate ways at the end of the day, but now we found reasons to be together even if we didn’t go anywhere. On the road we’d order a pizza for dinner and watch some tube together in one of our motel rooms while eating, more likely than not squabbling over the remote and channel. If we were at home, most nights one of us would usually offhandedly inquire about the other’s plans for that evening. One afternoon Scully mentioned that she had to go grocery shopping after work so I went with her, and more than once she came to hang out and watch when I joined in a few pickup games at the local Y.

But I was clueless as to how or when to bring up our one sexual experience, and unsure if I should just grab her again. There were quite a few openings but I held back, afraid I’d ruin everything if she wasn’t amenable. I was enjoying our new relationship as well and didn’t want to fuck it up despite my body’s urging that more would be really, really nice anytime now.

* * *

The man drives me absolutely insane sometimes, and this was one of those times.

I had figured out that Mulder wanted to take it slow, for us to date like normal people instead of law enforcement partners who had banged each other in a moment of uncontrolled passion. That, I assumed, was what he’d wanted to tell me when I’d stayed in California for Christmas and missed our talk. I thought it was sweet and hell yes I enjoyed it; what woman wouldn’t, especially after he’d ignored our one incredible night together months ago? 

But it was beginning to be frustrating.

After weeks of hand-holding and close-mouthed kisses and friendly hugs I was ready to handcuff him, throw him to the floor, and have my way with him. But I reined in my impatience and repeatedly told myself that I should enjoy the attention while I had it.

Myself said that getting laid again would be so much better.

When I woke on Mulder’s couch in the gutter of morning, sweetly covered with a blanket and with one hell of a crick in my neck, I decided that enough was enough. I rose silently from the couch despite wanting to groan at my aches and pains from sleeping in such an odd position, then made my way to the bathroom through his bedroom without waking him. 

I emerged from the bathroom naked as the day I was born and with a fresh, clean mouth after borrowing a little of Mulder’s mouthwash. When I slid in next to him beneath the covers he rolled over onto his side and mumbled, “Scully, what took you so long?” before gathering me against his equally nude body. Instead of answering I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, threw one leg over his hip, and covered his mouth with mine in a kiss that could in no way be construed as just ‘friendly’. 

“God, you taste good,” he said sometime later when we broke the kiss.

“You’d better like it,” I said. “It’s your mouthwash.”

He laughed against my lips then captured them again in a long, deep, intense kiss that caused a tingle to go through me right down to my curling toes. Though I could feel his erection, a hot, hard lump against my belly, he made no move to do anything but kiss me, even keeping his arms around my waist holding me tightly against his hard body.

I was enjoying the hell out of the kissing—Sheila Fontaine really had no idea how well this man could kiss!—but I was at the end of my rope. I needed more and I needed it right now.

* * *

She rolled me onto my back without breaking the kiss, sliding her leg over my waist so that she was astride me with her arms still around my shoulders, lying flat on my body. I moved my hands up to her head, cupping the back of it and sinking my fingers into her hair as we continued to kiss each other breathless. I could feel the head of my cock against her ass and wished I could just slide up into her, but for the time being we were at the wrong angle for that. Her hot, damp center pressed down on my belly, but not for long if I had any say in the matter.

But as it turned out, I didn’t. And that was fine by me.

She gave one last suck at my tongue and then broke the kiss, sitting up with her hands flat on my pectoral muscles. When I moved my hands from her head and started to reach for her hips she grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them down, my elbows bent and hands parallel with my shoulders. “I have got you right where I want you,” she said almost breathlessly, scooting back slowly and trying to slide down onto me. But no such luck; my cock ended up off to one side, rubbing tantalizingly against her left lower ass cheek. 

“Don’t you move,” she warned me as she let go of one wrist and reached back even as she leaned forward again. I groaned as she circled her hand around my cock just behind the head and aimed me in the right direction.

While she was so distracted I lifted my upper torso and captured one of her nipples in my mouth, causing her to pause and look down at me with a long, soft moan. I moved to the other one, giving it equal time, then laid back grinning up at her in the dimness of the room. “Weren’t you in the middle of having your way with me?” I said cockily, wiggling the fingers of the hand she had let go of.

Without answering she began to sink down on me, holding my wrist firmly to the bed again. “Jesus, Scully,” I groaned as I slowly entered her tight, hot, wet canal. “I had almost forgotten how incredible this is.”

“What, me, or sex in general?” she breathed, pausing and lifting up a bit before pushing herself down again. It was like the first time I’d entered her, when she’d been too tight for me to slide into her unhindered despite her natural lubrication. Oh, dear God, it got better by the moment. Why had we not done this again sooner?! My entire body was on fire, consumed with desire and yearning for her even while she was making love to me.

“You. Sex has never, ever been this amazing before you,” I said, gazing up at her. I wished we had more light but on the other hand I kind of liked the dimness, the almost secretive feel of our lovemaking. “It’s all you, Scully, all you that makes it so special.”

She bottomed out, and I felt myself all the way deep inside her with resistance at the top. That was her cervix, I realized, and despite the disparity in our sizes she was taking me in all the way. She paused only for a moment, though, before slowly tilting her hips forward and sliding me almost all the way out, then sinking down on me just as gradually. Oh, God, talk about sweet torture!

We moaned in tandem as she did it again. I held still beneath her and didn’t make any effort to thrust up into her or get my wrists loose. We were staring into each other’s eyes, watching reactions as she continued to slowly rise and fall on me. As much as I wanted to let go and fuck her silly, this exquisite torture was worth the wait. It had been so long for us that I was not going to hurry, and while she was in control this was how it was going to be.

* * *

Finally I let go of his wrists, wanting to touch him and feel his hands on me. Even as I paused to shift my weight to my knees so I could caress his chest, he snaked one hand between my legs and began to rub my clit gently but firmly, dipping lower every once in a while for more moisture, which I was creating just fine. It caused me to pause and let out a breathless exclamation of encouragement and wonder. I began to thrust my hips back and forth shallowly, rather than up and down, against his fingers which caused his cock, deep inside me, to rub in interesting places. My arousal shot up as I straightened and put my hands on my upper thighs so he had unlimited access to my body. “Gonna come if you keep doing that,” I breathed down at him.

He stared up at me with dark eyes set in an intensely focused face. “That’s my plan.”

Very shortly I finished the delicious climb to the peak and tipped over the other side tingling and pulsing, crying out into the dimness of his room even as I fell forward onto his body. Having his thick, hard cock inside me to grip with my vaginal muscles as I came was exquisite. I felt him stirring beneath me and managed to gasp out, “Don’t you move, I am so not done with you yet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he rumbled with amusement in his voice. “Do with me what you will.”

“God, I missed you, Mulder,” I said against his neck, sprawled bonelessly on his hard body, feeling aftershocks quivering deep inside me. “I don’t ever want to go so long between again.”

“Me either,” he breathed, nuzzling the side of my head. “You’re worth waiting for, but that was too long.”

“You were waiting for me?” I lifted my head and looked down at him. 

“Yeah, more or less,” he said as I braced my hands on his pectorals and sat partway up. “I figured I’d let you know I was open to anything and see what you did.”

I sighed, smiling. “I was doing the same thing, and I was afraid you didn’t want me again.”

He stared up at me for a second before grinning back, moving his hands to my waist and squeezing lightly. “I think you can see that that’s not the case. Regardless, let’s get back to the fun stuff,” he said, wiggling his hips slightly.

“God, yeah,” I said, beginning to lift myself using both legs and arms to move. 

* * *

I began to run my hands all over her when she went back to fucking me, feeling the contours of her incredible body and then resting my fingers on her outer thighs for a few moments while I tried to calm my arousal to no avail. I simply wasn’t going to be able to hold on much more. Then I slid them back up to cup her breasts as I breathed, “Not sure how much longer I’m gonna last; you’ve really got me going.”

“No problem,” she said, then leaned down and gave me a quick kiss before beginning to move up and down on me even faster. “I want to watch you come, feel you come inside me.”

I groaned long and low, then took hold of her hips and began to thrust up into her. “Christ, Mulder!” she yelped as I slammed up into her body, but from the look on her face it was a yell of pleasure and not pain. I wanted to get her off again but I knew I was past the point of no return, and then thrust up into her jerkily a few times, my eyes falling closed despite my wanting to keep them open to watch her as I came. I felt my balls drawing up and tingling, cock swelling even more and jerking inside her as the orgasm swept through me. She slammed down on me one final time then tightened her inner muscles as I spasmed into her, causing me to let out a hoarse, startled yell that I’m sure my neighbors heard quite clearly.

I pulled her down onto my chest, capturing her soft, warm mouth and giving her a deep, gasping kiss as I held her down on me with both arms around her shoulders, thrusting shallowly into her a few times before my erection was completely gone. “Oh God, Scully, you are fucking incredible. You never fail to amaze me.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mulder,” she said, leaning back just enough to brush my nose with hers, giving Eskimo kisses. Then my cock jerked inside of her again and she moaned, involuntarily thrusting down on me even though I was already going soft.

“Ah, shit, were you close when I finished?” I said, pushing back into the pillow beneath my head so I could see her face. Her eyes were soft, far away, her mouth slack and cheeks flushed. I was pretty damn sure she hadn’t come again. “I don’t want to leave you hanging, Scully.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly, bracing her forearms on my chest.

“I don’t think so,” I said, rolling her off me so that she landed on her back and I leaned over her, reaching downwards over her flat belly and abs. “Can’t lie to me here, Scully.”

As my fingers slid through her soft, tightly curled pubic hair she shivered, arching her back. Even as my fingers found her clit I was kissing her, trying to show her how much I loved and needed her and wanted to get her off. I reached further, sliding two fingers up into her soft, firm, damp canal while the heel of my hand rubbed her clit, and before I’d gotten three strokes in, she was over and gone again. As she came down from the orgasm I was lying beside her and holding her, one arm under her neck and the other across her waist. 

“God, Scully, you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen when you let go like that,” I murmured into her ear as she relaxed next to me. “Better warn you, I’m addicted to watching you get off and am going to want to see it at least once a day, if not more.”

* * *

I turned on my side and cuddled into him, reaching up to kiss him hard before relaxing back onto his lean, solid body, my head on his gently moving chest. I was so surfeited that I could barely speak and wanted nothing more than to doze off, but apparently Mulder was wide awake and ready to chat. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… this isn’t another annual thing, is it?” he rumbled beneath my ear. “I don’t want us to go months without being together again, and I don’t want more misunderstandings.”

“Right now all I want is to go to sleep,” I murmured, cuddling closer as his arm tightened around my waist. “We can talk in the morning, okay?”

“If you insist, but I’m going to reiterate the not-an-annual-thing part,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “We’re together in every way possible for the long run, right, Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder.” God, I’d never get any sleep with Chatty Cathy here. And we had to be back at work in a few hours. Much as I didn’t want to, I dragged myself away from his side saying, “Have to use the bathroom,” grabbing my clothes as I went by the foot of the bed. When I came out dressed, he was out like a light, sprawled among the tangled covers.

Figured.

* * *

When I woke and Scully wasn’t there, I initially panicked then realized that she had gone home to get ready for work. Though we had, over the years, left some personal items at each other’s apartments, there certainly were no changes of clothes.

Not yet, anyway.

I stretched, grinning as I felt the soreness in muscles long-unused for the purpose they’d served the night before. Letting Scully run the show had been one of the more erotic experiences of my life; I’d loved how she’d held me down and slowly, deliberately made love to me. I was glad I’d noticed that she hadn’t finished at the end; like any man sometimes I wasn’t sure, but when I’d felt her muscles contract around my softening cock and with the way she was still flushed and tense and expectant I had guessed right. I’d never been with a woman who got off so obviously and I was relieved that she wouldn’t keep me guessing in that way, at least.

As much as I’d have liked to lay here and run through last night’s lovemaking blow-by-blow, work did call and nothing had changed in that department. We had accountants to annoy, superiors to ignore, and aliens to chase.

Unlike the morning after our first time, I was now filled with hope and anticipation and… God, was it happiness? Was I really feeling happy, and looking forward to the day ahead? I was, shockingly enough. Well, I certainly had to go tell Scully about this, now, didn’t I?

finis


End file.
